Live in the now, before it fades.
You never know what tomorrow will bring; if you’ll even be graced by it’s presence, or taken before it’s too late.

Find a place where you can grow.

Where roses blossom

on your battered soul.

The soil being our Savior,

the sun being the light He puts in your life,

and the warmth is His embrace.

When we feel so broken,

so misunderstood.

It’s in those times we must stand still.

For our eyes cannot see straight,

our feet cannot be planted,

and our souls cannot embrace the storm.

Heartache is where you have tasted what being enough for someone is like,

yet being too much for them at the same time.

It’s a tragedy, really.

To have loved and then lost.

But the true tragedy is to have never loved another.

To have never felt the hole being filled within your heart.

The heart feeling complete and purposeful.

I can not be apart.

Without you all is dark.

The sunsets have no colors,

the morning, no light.

All I can see at night is your face as I close my eyes.

As I’m in college now, so close to earning my Associate of Science, I wish to earn my Bachelor of Science in Psychology. I want to work with troubled kids, adults, young adults…

I have never written a “dear me in 5 years”. I have, although, written a list of goals when I started my freshman year in high school in August and then opened it in May when the school year was almost out. Did I accomplish them? Most of them, yes. I was so surprised that I did because that’s how I thought of myself. Someone who didn’t work toward goals. It’s sad, yes, but I was 14 at the time. Now, I am a thriving 30 year-old, waiting to see what I accomplish in my life.

Now, to myself in 5 years, I hope that you have not let anyone talk down to you. As you would let anyone or anything do that to you at the age of 14. You have been through so much at such a young age, so I know you are slowly fighting your way to the top! Has a man made you feel small or less than? Then you are not the girl I hoped you’d be in 5 years. When you were 30, you dealt with a lot in your long-term relationship, but it wasn’t just him that was the problem. You both have issues, so you two can grow and hopefully be able to work it out. As for work, I hope at 35, 5 years from now, that you’re working with children, young adults, or even adults. Those that have struggled with depression, suicide, anxiety, self-esteem issues. Even kids who live in dysfunctional houses. Those children need someone to guide them, as they don’t normally get that from their homelife. I know you will be that person, that strong woman to build the weak back up. As you did that for yourself, which was far from easy. These things do not seem possible at times for someone, so all they need is a little help. Someone to talk to is something crucial, something so small, yet so big. So I hope that you are living your dream, helping others with mental health ailments, making them feel a purpose either for the first time or helping them gain that back. Dear me 5 years from now, I hope you are the happiest you have ever been. Living in a warm place, or living somewhere with someone that makes you feel whole.

I have met many good people, along with a few bad. That’s just it. I find it impossible to meet just good, or just bad. Also, I have learned that you cannot see the light, without first being in the dark. It is inevitable, unfortunately. We all are consumed with darkness at one point in our lives I believe, and once you have found that light, it shines so much brighter than ever before. As we go through the hard times in our life, we sit back and wonder why we are still in the dark. Some have the strength to pull themselves up, some do not. In a way, it seems like we are meant to go through the dark times that we do. That’s one crazy thing about life, is that there are good and bad for a reason- to maintain a balance in this world of ours. We do good and bad, as well as see the good and bad in others. It’s one of life’s blessings, yet curses.

             These three best friends, they loved each other infinitely, but their friendship ended in a deadly trick. These girls were obsessed with twitter, it was their life-along with Instagram. They posted their thoughts and feelings almost daily, it seemed to be an alternative diary; a digital diary, but one for the world to see. Skylar posted many, and one saying, “Snow makes everything more quiet…” How does such hate develop towards someone you love? To plot murder. For what reason? A friend, not even being out of high school, not knowing what true struggles are, or even what true betrayal entails? Rachel and Sheila, Skylar’s “best friends”, apparently planned to kill Skylar while in Science class one day- Turns out, Sheila and Skylar were always fighting. So, from that day in Science class, Rachel and Sheila planned the murder over the next month. The truth escaped from Rachel, that “We stabbed her”. The officials were shocked, and began to ask, “why did you stab her? Rachel responded, “Well, we didn’t like her.”

             My heart broke as I read this article, my mind along with. These three beautiful girls, so in love with each other, but torn apart by such pity, and in a fatal disaster. 16- year old Skylar’s life ended, all because her two “best friends” didn’t like her. They decided to stab her in the back, stab her from behind. They expressed a sick way of stabbing someone in the back, which is supposed to be just a metaphor. Skylar seemed to be a quiet, yet wild soul. Who loved and hated a lot of things, for really no reason? She was young, that is what kids do, that’s what we all go through to figure out our mind and our souls. As months went on, Rachel showed the investigator where her and Shelia had left Skylar’s body, which was in knee deep snow. Skylar was left in the cold, the freezing cold snow, and yes, it made everything more quiet as Skylar tweeted months back. Her body may be cold, dead, and with nature, but her soul is quiet and rested. There will be no more hate towards her, as her “friends” will dwell on that one decision of killing her, possibly realizing that they love her more than anything now, they will take on the hurt that Skylar must have felt in those last moments of her life, but those two girls will live with that pain for the rest of their lives.

Ashley C. Ford, “THE YEAR I GREW WILDLY WHILE MEN LOOKED ON”

As I read this title, I could not help but relate to this memoir. There is nothing like being able to relate to something you read; it allows you to feel better about the feeling, or the situation you were in, or better yet, that time of your life. Being hungry for love is a very common struggle, but some do not fully understand the feeling or concept of it. In this case, she needs love, not intimate love, she needs pure love, and she didn’t get any.

Kyoko Mori, “A Difficult Balance: Am I a Writer or a Teacher?

I had some understanding about some things in my life after reading this memoir. The dreams, the god awful, confusing dreams I have, I can see now that they can come from anxiety, etc. This memoir is very eye opening for me. It definitely opens your mind up to the world and people’s careers, or what some call their career. They are just a job if you don’t love it. A career to me should be something you love waking up to everyday, and that’s the feeling I got from this author; she put her heart into her writing, and her career. She expressed eventually, that in the classroom, the private and the public can come together, and she can be both a writer and a teacher. Even though she is had to put aside her own writing in order to prepare for the class and to conduct it, she’s bringing her writer’s mind to the discussion at hand. I took a lot away from this memoir, which is encouraging.

Scaachi Koul, “There’s No Recipe for Growing Up”

I have never been to India, but it sounds very intriguing after reading her memoir. The food sounds to die for, considering how she talked about it. The time she moved out, it took her a few years before she craved her mom’s Kashmiri food. She also said, she misses the things that hardly matter, like how her potatoes always ended up crescent-moon shaped, or the way her parathas were always triangular and puckered. I do miss family; it makes me feel like I should be closer to mine. So, in other words, this memoir gave a deeper meaning. I am sure that was one of her intentions.

Annie shed a lot of light about the little things in life, simple pleasures. Poetry is about more than just words and feelings; they have deeper meanings.                                                                                                                                                

This was a very interesting read; enlightening to say the least. To read about someone’s personal thoughts, feelings, that is a privilege to be able to experience. Not many people have that courage, letting everyone in on their lived. With poetry, I have learned that people will use the certain structures when writing as a outlet for therapy, to have some way to release the negative or positive energy.

If I were to ask you to think of five things that you take for granted right now, could you? If I asked you to count on one hand the things you couldn’t live without, would one of them be as simple as feeling sand in between your toes? I probably couldn’t have thought of any either. When I was on the giving an answer side of that statement, I had no answer to that question. As that truck flipped, my whole entire world flipped as well. I was a girl that didn’t see something as simple as hopping out of a car and going into the store as a privilege, I just thought it was a typical thing that people do- they do it every day and I never saw what was so special about that. We see past situations in hindsight, in which I believe is one of the beauties in life that not everyone gets to experience. Some people take a mistake, or situation, and they only see the wrong that was done. They don’t learn anything from it. That situation of mine was a very hurtful lesson, and the hindsight hurt so deeply. I still cannot understand some parts. The question why is always going through my brain, but I have gained the strength to move on but still have the knowledge to hold on to the precious parts of that event to help me take advantage of the now. I don’t want to take advantage of the simple things I’m able to do now, since I did that before the wreck.

In 2009, that wreck changed everything for me, and it has changed many things about me as well. As that truck flipped me, my life has never been the same. I received a spinal cord injury, and many more injuries including due to hitting the pavement after being ejected. It was the night of January 23rd, 2009, and just minutes before I was walking, fully functional. But after that flip, after that hit to the pavement, my life’s journey switched paths. I remember earlier that day walking around, being goofy, feeling the pavement under my sneakers, feeling all my muscles flex and contract as I walked. I also remember coloring my twin sisters hair that morning; we spent the day together. Those memories are precious, but at the time, it was just my muscles flexing as I walked, standing while doing my sisters hair. No biggie. Nothing special then. The sound and the feel of the leaves in the yard as they crunched and smashed under my feet as I walked. The smell of the winter air, thinking of how great a day it is. I remember the cold on my feet as I was walking out of the house that afternoon, and as I was playing catch with friends later. The string on my little jacket with a ball on the end, how I was walking down the street twisting it and untwisting it repeatedly. Not a care in the world that day, it was a laid-back kind. I loved running too. That day, at one point, I ran. The feeling of the cold air filling my lungs was exhilarating. I liked how when I was finished running, I could barely breath, I had this rewarding pain in my chest that told me, “well done.”

But, why did that wreck happen? Why would God let that happen? What did I do to deserve that? I felt like I died, I didn’t know what was happening after the impact. Was I dead? Was this heaven, because all I saw was someone and a bright white light? Why is there blood everywhere, all in my hair? I’m in the middle of the road. Why are there flashing lights everywhere? My back and head ached like no other, I wasn’t understanding why I couldn’t get up and run to help, I didn’t know that I was paralyzed on impact. I just couldn’t stand the pain, but all that aside, I remember trying to yell for help; all that came out was a faint “help”, since it felt like I was hit by a truck, that’s why no one could hear me. As I kept going in and out of consciousness, I remember the paramedics talking some to me, cutting my clothes off, shaving part of my head; I wanted to slap whoever was doing that, but was so weak and fuzzy. They were asking what I had that night, if I did any drugs or alcohol. “Did you have alcohol tonight”? I said, yes. They then asked, “Did you smoke marijuana”? I said, “no”. Then they asked if I could feel where they were touching me on my legs. I remember looking down at my legs, because I couldn’t feel anything and didn’t know why in that moment. I had never felt so scared, so heart-broken in my life. I was there enough to think and know what not feeling my legs meant. I then ask, “am I ever going to walk again?” The paramedic said, “I don’t know, sweetheart”. I still remember how she said it too- she was saddened by what I asked, and I knew she didn’t want to break that news to me. As I heard her say in what seemed like the background at that point to the other paramedic, “possible paralysis”, and other stuff in which I didn’t gather because I was coming in and out of consciousness. They were communicating with each other in the emergency trauma situation.

That Sunday when I finally woke up, a day and a half later, that was a day I’ll never forget. I was in the ICU in the St. John’s Hospital in Springfield, Missouri. My mom told me the news, in which I didn’t quite understand. It may have been because of the anesthesia, being asleep for so long, or the trauma to my head. I was swollen and puffy feeling, turns out that was from the road rash, internal injuries, and the impact. I felt so hazy, confused, I could smell the awful smell of the hospital just creeping into my nostrils. I immediately wished I was back asleep. My mother told me that I had a spinal cord injury, she had tears in her eyes, then I said “no, everything will be ok, mom”. Like this was just a minor accident, and I’ll be walking out of here in no time. She knew I wasn’t comprehending everything like I should have been. I still wasn’t able to wrap everything around my head, due to being confused as to why I was even in an ICU room, why I felt like I couldn’t get up to go to the bathroom, why I couldn’t feel that urge to even go to the bathroom, why I felt so numb, so heavy. I felt as if I were 300 pounds, it was a weird feeling of being weighed down and feeling as if I were trapped. Little did I know. When I was transferred to a normal room from ICU, I experienced my first hallucinations from being put on morphine and oxycodone for the pain. Never in my life had I ever taken narcotics, so me being newly paralyzed, bedbound, not being able to get away from those visions, being stuck in a bed, that was scary. I was trapped.

As I transferred from my normal room to the Physical Rehabilitation floor in the hospital, I was on less medicine, so in turn that made realization kick in. It didn’t only kick in, it hit me like a freight train, immediately sending me into depression. I didn’t want to get out of bed for days, but some of the nurses wouldn’t let that happen. The smell of the food, the facility, the realization that I really can’t move my legs, I couldn’t fathom it. I thought to myself, “this is real.” “I can’t do this.” Little did I know, that was just the beginning, and that things got harder as I went. I felt like I was in the dark, like I wasn’t able to see the light of day for a long time. With the wreck being over eleven years ago now, I have been through so much. Spiritually, emotionally, physically, financially, and just about every other “ally” you can think of. The emotion aspect of this journey has been the absolute hardest, as the physical part of it does have its deep seeded struggles and concerns, it’s the emotional part that has the deeper affect. When someone’s emotions are on point, it seems that the physical portion of someone feeds off that. If your soul is good, then your body is great, because as your spirit flies, your body glides.

When I came home from the hospital two months later, seeing the place that I was able to navigate so effortlessly before in, and now being in a wheelchair. Seeing the things I took for granted were far too many to count. Seeing everything in hindsight hurt tremendously. But more importantly, seeing the hurt in my family’s eyes hurt far more. I thought to myself, “I have put my family though a lot of hurt the past two months.” They have been to the hospital constantly, they have seen my hurt, my struggles, my depression, and all of that before I was even released from the hospital. Now, I get to see them in our comfort zone. Them seeing me struggle with “normal things”, I feel made them see the simple things that they took advantage of. I experience this daily out in the community. Things as simple as going to the grocery store. You can only imagine what I struggle with while I’m there. Some people on occasion have thought I’m mentally retarded, that I’m possibly deaf, all because they see that I’m in a wheelchair and totally disregarding the fact that I’m alone and not with a “caregiver”. If I had one wish, it would be that closed minds should come with closed mouths. Some people are very uneducated on how to approach a person with a disability, or what I refer to as a, “differentlyabled” person. I’m an independent woman, who has a spinal cord injury, who shops on her own, upon many other things. I have experienced so many people making fun of me, talking loud to me because they think I’m deaf, kneeling down to me to be at my height and talking to me like I am a mentally challenged person, when the problem is that I am vertically challenged. I don’t want pity, that’s the last thing someone wants. I want to encourage people to treat others as they are the same, with no judgement, because no one should be there to judge, but there to love.